Labors: GreytoBlack Ops pt2
by Marco A. Salazar
Summary: The newest adventure of Lt. Roger Hackett: to stop a Moon KingdomHyrule war by any means necessary


**Labors: Grey-To-Black Ops: Operation Hyrule Bargain.**

DISCLAIMER: Based on characters and situations crated by Metroanime and Hung Nguyen. Roger Hackett belongs to me. Any RPGs –and property stuff- mentioned are property of their companies ("D20 Modern" and "Urban Arcana" is WOTC's, BTW). Read the first story for the expanded disclaimer.

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**EXTRA NOTE: THIS ASSUMES AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT DIRECTION FROM HUNG NGUYEN'S "LEGEND OF RANMA" STORY. I RECOMMEND YOU TO READ THAT STORY TO UNDERSTAND THE BACKGROUND----AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, THIS IS _NOT_ HIS CANON!**

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_"We refer to them as "the heroes", not in the "good guy" sense of the story _per se_, but because they are the main protagonists (or antagonists) of the story…."_

_-From the "D20 Modern" Core Rulebook._

_"Gardner Fox postulated that each parallel earth vibrated at its own frequency. He went on to say that on each planet a great number of people are susceptible to the different frequencies and are inspired to write stories based on the events of these other worlds. These people are the Ladies Murasaki, Jules Vernes and Sir Arthur Conan Doyles of their respective homes. »_

_-« I Was A Teenage Dummy Plug », Chapter 2, by foxboy._

**PROLOGUE:**

The man's California home was almost fully dark, except for some exterior lights and the TV set in his office. Usually, at this time, he would tune in to the local news or the international news-depressing as they always were. But today he just decided to surf for a while-after all , if the news were always depressing, then just ONE day of not looking couldn't hurt.

He tuned in to TV Land, which was passing a marathon. The series was one of his favorites. Of course, it was old-hell, VERY- but what the heck?

He sat there, watching the series for a while, when this sort of buzzing sensation came to him. It felt akin to not having blood coming to your limbs for a while. Of course he hadn't drank anything. His writing seriously required for him not to.

And then, a flash of inspiration. Lousy as it was, it still felt extremely vivid. He shrugged his shoulders and thinking /What's the worst that could happen/ he took a mini-cassette recorder and pressed "Rec".

"The man was five feet, two inches tall, dark hair, brown eyes. The pretty face was marred by a number of faded scars and a hardened, veteran look, pretty bizarre on his young face. He dressed in blue jeans, red sneakers, a red T-shirt, and a jacket…..- he pressed "Pause" for a moment, thinking it over, and then continued- a leather jacket. –his voice strengthened- a "Battlestar Galactica" Colonial Warrior leather jacket, beaten beyond belief, and ruined with two unit arm patches…"

**CHAPTER ONE: Gathering –And Arming- Of 'the Heroes'.**

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Grey Shard got out of the elevator, looking back with some small amount of fear. The graffiti on its walls had been a pretty accurate representation of a man being attacked by a Cthulhu, no gore spared. He shuddered.

Roger Hackett lived in the 1235th apartment of the James Hawkins Apartment Block, in downtown Asgard. James Hawkins was designed in the fashion of a Mega-City One block, Art Deco-looking, a mile high, full of apartments and cluttered with people, families and roommates. Grey noted that the door with "1325" on it was the only door in the corridor that didn't had graffiti on it, showing its bright cobalt blue color, a color that, Grey noted, barely hid the fact that the door was armored.

Reaching into his hidden space, Grey pulled out a cardkey, which he swiped by the nearby reader. It opened with a muffled "Whhhssshh", letting him in. The room beyond was darkened, except for a tiny spot by the dining table.

"Rog?", Grey asked.

"Yeah?", Roger said. He was sitting by the table, his nose inside a particularly BIG book of some sort. The title was "Mutants and Masterminds".

"Writing RPG stuff again?", Grey said.

"Just trying to convert a few characters to this system. I thought, maybe I could go on and get a license for this.", he said, showing Grey a nearby manuscript, "What do you think?".

"'M&An: An Anime character conversion guide for Mutants and Masterminds'-Grey read aloud-You sure you don't want to get sued?"

"It's a working title", Roger said with a miffed voice. Grey gave him back the manuscript, before he asked:

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"We got a mission, L.T. I got the orders an hour ago.", Grey said. "This is a very high-profile mission, L.T."

Roger looked down at the RPG book, then closed it and put it on the table. He stretched.

"What's the specifics for it?", Roger asked, his voice all business. Grey pulled out a business folder and opened it up.

"According to this, AltDim 6605272 is having a conflict coming up. Our job is to try and pacify it.-Grey looked at Roger-It's the Moon Kingdom."

"Great. The Moon Kingdom.-Roger said exasperated-What the fuck is it this time? Oh, wait, don't tell me. The other side will prevent Crystal Tokyo, right? It's ALWAYS like that!"

Grey pretended not to notice Roger's exasperated rambling. "The other side is the Kingdom of Hyrule."

"Wait a minute. Hyrule? THE Hyrule? As in, "Legend of Zelda", Link, created by Nintendo, Hyrule? Why the fuck do they want to fight the Moon Kingdom?"

"The MK almost whacked the Hero of Time."

"And what was Link doing in Juuban?", Roger asked.

"It wasn't Link. The Hero of Time in this particular universe is none other that our friend, Ranma Saotome.", Grey said. He pulled out a picture for Roger to see, depicting the martial artist dressed as the famous 'elf'.

"Ranma Saotome.-Roger almost spat out the name-The fuckin' idiot CAN'T do ANYTHING right?"

"Well, he DID save Hyrule…and the fact is, the Sailors were wrong to try…"

"But he had to go on and turn the damned neighborhood into a potential war zone for the mystical, right?", Roger said, throwing the picture over the table, snorting. "Why do you want me on this, Shard? Want me to go kick his ass or something?"

Grey calmly grabbed the picture and put it back in the folder, before saying:

"I'm going in as the Knight; try to talk the Sailors out of this. If not, I'll try it with the Hylians. Fact is you and I both know that I'm going to be a mark, by them and whoever decided this shit to happen. And maybe Saotome and his allies, if my bets are right."

He looked at Roger in a puppy-like fashion (a hard feat to do with a skull-like face), and continued:

"I'm gonna need you there to protect my back, L.T. I need a Street Samurai. I'm gonna need your magic."

Roger thought about it for a second, and then said:

"All right, man, you got it. Just on one condition."

"And that is?"

"If I can get away with it, I'm gonna slug Saotome. You dig me?", Roger said in a low voice.

"Got it."

A pair of loud groans came from the bedroom, making Grey turn towards it.

"Who's there?", he asked.

"It's just Jess. She got beaten all over back at the USat. Some sort of new training regime, from that bastard of a coach.", Roger said in that same low voice, now with a growl-like undertone, a perfect imitation of that guy from "CSI: Miami". Or maybe that other actor, what's-his-name… the guy from "Vice".

"You're not gonna beat him up or something?", Grey asked.

"Why for? That guy must be the ultimate Nietzsche fan this side of the verses. I did the only thing I could think of: I told Nene to change his notes."

Grey looked at Roger, who had a tiny grim smile.

"You're a crazy man, you know that?"

"You care?", Roger answered.

Some time later, Roger and Grey arrived at a large warehouse close to the Offices. The warehouse was nondescript, its walls full of dust and the occasional pile of trash at points nearby. Roger opened a door on the warehouse's side, letting Grey walk in before closing it.

The warehouse was a body shop of sorts, all kinds of super-advanced technology strewn all over the place, and unlike the shops you saw on the Learning Channel, a large amount of robots were working on each car at a time.

From the back of the shop a tiny girl appeared, big green eyes in a perpetual gleeful twinkle and a mass of red hair that somewhat resembled a crab if watched straight from the front, dressed in a simple gray overall.

"Well, well, well.", she said "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

"Hi, Wash.-Roger said-Uh, we need some gear… and my car."

"Something wrong with my loaner, Hackett?", she asked.

"I have no problem with Chevys, antique even… only as long as they stay on the ground."

She chuckled, then said:

"Right over here, gentlemen. Follow my lead."

She lead them both to a door on the back of the shop, thick-looking, a battleship grey in color. She unlocked it with a cardkey.

"So, what kind of gear do you need? I've gotten some new stuff, fresh from the Colonies."

"We need weapons, Wash. Powerful ones.", Roger said.

"For what kind of opponents?"

"So far, Intel says that it's an SM/Ranma/Zelda verse, so we're talking the MK, some Zelda baddies and the NWC.", Grey said.

She whistled. "That bad, huh? I got the order a couple of hours ago, thought somebody must be very crazy to make it-She looked at Grey and Roger-Either one of you would do."

"We're trying peace first, all right?", Grey said.

Wash chuckled again, this time without any mirth. "It's two powerful kingdoms at their throats and a bunch of wackos."

She huffed, pulling a metal case from a cabinet and on top of a nearby table.

"Well, here's the standard 'care package'. 2 Berettas, 2 Sig-Sauers. Clips and ammo for both. 2 flash-bang grenades, 2 HE mini-grens. Light undercover vest. Lockpick set. Cell phone with scramble-mode, a PDA with modem and GPS receiver, mini-audio recorder and digital camera. The Berettas and Sigs are modified, silencer-ready, with mini-laser sights.-she looked at Grey- This would be good, in a technothriller verse, I suppose."

"We're gonna need something nastier than a 9-mill semi, Wash.", Roger said.

"THAT'S why I have THIS baby at hand!", Wash said, pulling out a bigger case. "My 'heavy hurt' package. IMI Mini-Uzi, Glover-Glazer .223 Pistol, 2 HK Mk 23 pistols, 2 HE mini-grenades, 2 plasma mini-grenades, Smith & Wesson M29 revolver. Ammo, clips and speed loaders. Bushnell TWB-20 binoculars, with full package." (Marco's note: Bushnell Tactical Warfare Binoculars, model 2020. Full package includes low-light vision, rangefinder (optical and laser) with laser possible to field-modify to painting work. The Glover-Glazer is from "Fallout". Still have to see where I'll put its description.)

"It's still not heavy enough, Wash.", Roger sing-songed.

"Well, what the hell are you expecting? Some sort of freaking war or something?", Wash asked.

"Yeah, Wash, we're expecting a war. Directed at us, most probably.", Grey said.

She looked at them like they were crazy, then went for another cabinet. From it, she pulled out a duffel bag, purely black, which shook the table like it weighted a ton.

"This is the heaviest package I've got on me at the moment. I call it the 'warfare' package.-she had to take a deep breath before starting- Inside there's automatic weapons, large-caliber small arms, heavy weapons, high explosives. Fully loaded clips for them all, and at least a box of extra ammo for most of them. Guaranteed to start a war or help you survive one."

"We'll see about that one when it comes.", Grey said, reaching inside the bag. He pulled out something that looked like an HK MP-5 sub-machine gun, with a telescopic sight, an elongated barrel and a bipod. "For example, what's this?"

"It's an HK MP11-Sniper Gewehr-model 1. -Roger said- MP-5 design modified for 12-mili caliber and sniper operations. It's produced for snipers who might have to go into CQC mode before, during or after their shot."

"Never heard of it."

"It's because it won't be in production until the year 2019, mostly.", Roger said, turning to Wash "What's the clip size for it?"

"On this package? 30-rounders. Enough for a party.", Wash said. "But, come on, that's just the tip of the iceberg."

Grey looked inside the bag after tucking the HK in. "Yeah. I take your word for it.", he said.

Roger and Grey grabbed the bags, ready to walk out, when Wash said:

"Hey, wait! There's still more!"

The two guys looked at each other, then asked: "More?"

"Yep!", she replied perkily, reaching inside her overall's pockets. From one of them, she pulled out a pair of dark glasses. "For you", she said, handing them to Roger.

They didn't looked like much, except for the modern design. They looked like the ones Arnie used in "T3", except for the tiny gray "Gargoyles" brand and the mirrored lenses.

"What're these for?"

"My latest mod. The glasses have a mini-HUD on the lenses, linked to a mini-camera on the bridge."

"Wash, I don't have time for "Mission: Impossible" gizmos.", Roger said, handing them back.

"The camera has a variety of vision modes: low-light, thermal, infrared, and one I've been working on. They also can show the data from your PDA straight into your view, with no-one being the wiser.", she said, handing them again "The vision mode is experimental, but the rest is tried-and-true stuff."

Roger put them on, then said:

"You have more, right?"

"Yup! How'd you know?", she said.

"You have that look on your face.-Roger said, then asked-This new sight-mode won't make me fire lasers or something, right?"

"Nope. It's something more… mystical than that.", she said, opening the same cabinet of the "Care Package" and rummaging inside.

"I've been working lately on a new kind of armored clothes, a hybrid of armor techs from here and there. This is my first bunch of them." She pulled out a bundle of clothes, which she handed to Roger. "Here you go, tailor-made for ya. I borrowed your jacket for a while, too. Sorry."

The clothes-like the glasses-didn't looked like much. A pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a leather jacket. The T-shirt had the brand of the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense on its front.

"The clothes have been lined with Kevlar and a new fiber I call "Heat Sink". The jacket is new Synthleather, with Kevlar, Heat Sink weaves and mini-plates of MD armor on key areas.", she said.

"'Heat Sink'?", Roger asked.

"Think Kevlar for energy attacks. They absorb the energy and redirect it over a large area, thus lessening the impact."

"Oh", Roger said "I take my jacket, then."

Her grin lessened. "You take it all.", she said sternly. Roger just winced.

"Okay. Just one question… -Roger extended the T-shirt- Why the B.P.R.D.?"

"I've always thought that you were my own personal Hellboy.", she said.

Roger just grumbled.

After that, Roger, Grey and Wash walked to the back of the shop, where a car rested apart.

"Gentlemen… -Wash said with a flourish- Your vehicle."

It was a 1969 Ford Mustang, very much unlike the other super-tech, 27th-Century cars that the body shop was littered with. A dark red, almost purplish body color made it look like a demon of some sort, with tinted, thick windows, a spoiler, a bigger air vent on the hood, a couple of extra front lights, grating running over all four of them.

Wash explained: "The body panels were completely remade with additional armor plating, and the structure reinforced with titanium. The wheels are of a modified military design, run-flat and fireproof. The windows are made of bulletproof glass with Kevlar reinforcement, except for the windshield."

"What's it made of?", Grey asked.

"Tektite, with transparisteel reinforcement on the weak spots.- she whacked Grey- Now let me finish! – she cleared her throat- Offensive weaponry includes two hidden .50-caliber machine guns on the front, a hidden grenade launcher and mini-rocket launcher, which can fire straight forward or up to 40 degrees up, on the front. The chassis can be electrified at the touch of a button, and there's two side-mounted flame throwers to fend off hijackers."

"Ain't that a little too cruel?", Grey asked.

"What?"

"The flame throwers. Ain't that too cruel for a hijacker?"

"Not if they run for it. This is a perfectly legal alarm system in a couple of countries, you know.", Wash said.

"Oh, yeah? Which ones?", Grey said defiantly.

"South Africa, for one.", Wash said matter-of-factly. Grey shut up.

"Good. -Wash said- Now, the engine has been souped-up exponentially- blower, NOz injector system, computer-controlled fuel injection, the works. At least, this will give you a hundred fifty, 200 more MPH than the standard Mustang engine, in a short run. Haven't tried a long run yet. All indicators are digital, with an additional computer system. Extended long-range fuel cell, maximum mission range of 750 kilometers, guaranteed."

She shoved her hands into her pockets, and shoved out her chest. "It's one of my best old-car retrofits so far, you know.", she said confidently.

"We know.", Roger said. Wash opened her eyes to discover that both men have gotten inside the car, and started it up. Roger was grinning at her from the driver's seat.

"The cash's in the standard place, girl. Thanks, Hakubi.", he said aloud over the engine.

"No prob!", she hollered back. "See ya later!"

Then the Mustang vanished in a flash of blue-white light, leaving only a small burn behind.

"Dang. –Washu "Wash" Hakubi said- And I've just cleaned up the freakin' floor."

**CHAPTER TWO: Arrival Of 'the Heroes'.**

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_"The emergence onto Earth of strange creatures from the shadows is nothing new."_

_-From the introduction to the D20 Modern Adventure, "Le Chien De L'Onyx"._

Azabu Juuban. A name that was, like Nerima, both a magnet and a bane for creatures of darkness. This quiet Tokyo district was nothing more that a collection of buildings and people, certainly nothing worth of attention for a regular salaryman.

Why it was a magnet? Not one creature really knew. But the reason it was a bane was VERY well known.

At that very same moment, one of those reasons, in civilian garb, was wandering the district's streets. A quiet girl with blue hair, big blue eyes and a number of books clutched tight to herself, any dumb observer would have confused her for Miss Akane Tendo, mainly for the somewhat alike hairstyle.

Her name was Ami Mizuno, also known to a number of friends -and all foes- as Sailor Mercury. Like pretty much all the time, her mind was wandering, thinking of anything that its owner found interesting. Now, it would usually be her studies and such. But not tonight. Tonight, her mind was on Sailor business.

A night ago, the Sailor Scouts had fought a strange aqueous being known as Morpha, helped greatly (or rather, saved) by a hero that called himself "The Hyrule Knight". After the fight, that same 'Knight' had tried to kill Usagi's daughter from the future, Rini, with an arrow. In retaliation, the Outer Scouts attacked. During the entire time the Outers went at it, the same Knight that had fired an arrow tried to talk them that he didn't do it, almost like a schizophrenic.

Of course, the Inners had attacked him, and what stayed after the combined might of the entire Scouts wasn't enough to get an answer out of.

_/The shame is, he looked like a very good man/ _she thought/_Too bad that he was an enemy./ _As usually, she sighed at the darkness of the thought.

_/Of course, _she continued, _maybe the outers went TOO far with their retaliation…/. _The public's response at the apparent cold-blooded backstab of the Sailors was more unsettling than most. The day after that, all over the news, written and broadcasted, the media had started to write the Sailor Scouts as "dangerous vigilantes" which apparent green haired leader was "a psycho who killed any helping newcomers". On her route home from her school, she had seen everything, from make-shift "wanted for murder" posters depicting the Scouts, to doll-burning.

Of course, she wasn't going to back down from her duty. She had sworn to protect the Princess in a former life, and she renewed it on this one. She was destined to help on the bringing of Crystal Tokyo, and the promise of a utopia was all that took to keep her on her post.

She promised herself that, once Crystal Tokyo was built, this event would NOT make it to the history books.

Sighing, she kept walking past a small, dark alley, never paying attention to the events going inside.

Random debris moved as if hit by a strong wind, but there was none even out of the alley. And then small, sizzling bolts of lightning criss-crossed the alley, converging on a single location. When the lightning vanished, it was with a massive thunder, leaving behind a dark red Mustang.

Roger and Grey looked all around the car, noticing the dancing arcs of static that were left. "Are we on target?", Roger said at last.

"Yup. Trust me on this, man. Cross-dimensional transport these days is as easy as getting on the highway.", Grey said.

" You know, I've seen some really nasty highways out there myself."

"Okay, so it's not so much like THAT.- Grey said- Let's go find a hotel, group, and tomorrow we go for the loonies."

"Best idea of the moment.", Roger said, gunning the engine.

On a room on a place beyond space and time, a green-haired, sailor-fuku-wearing beauty looked into an enormous pair of doors, scanning for strange things, which at the moment was pretty much anything.

The appearance of the Hyrule Knight had corrupted the timeline she had set into an uncontrollable jumble of possibilities, some of them good, some of them bad. His disappearance had not re-arranged anything, which was her former belief. In fact, it had made it worse.

As she watched, an image appeared. As all of the others, it was faint and hard to recognize, but she managed to see it after a moment. It was a bundle of triangles on a black background, arranged to form a hawk-like head. Letters around the head she couldn't read, but there was a number-"75"-among them, that much she had for sure.

Setsuna Meiou, the Senshi of Time, arched an eyebrow. "I've got to check that out."

On another room, this one hidden somewhere in the Bayankala Mountain Range, in China, a man saw the same image.

This man was the reason behind the disappearance of the Hyrule Knight, the mastermind behind the fight of the Senshi and the hero. He was a God in the making.

Like Setsuna, he also arched an eyebrow. A hawk's head and "75", nothing he could recognize, but for it to appear on the Time Gates, it MUST be important.

Whether it was important to him or to the Sailors, that he had to find out.

"Mara", he called, and one of his followers, a tall bronzed beauty, approached his throne.

"Yes, Saffron?", she said in a bored tone. He shown the image of the Gates to her.

"I want you to search about this image. What it means, who uses it. It must be someone from the Offices, or a so-called "hero". I want names, nicknames, everything."

"I will, sir.", she said, vanishing in a cloud of brimstone.

Saffron, the Phoenix God, smiled darkly.

**INTERMISSION:**

****

The man stopped recording after a half an hour of continuous talking. There sure had been a lot in his brain.

And there was more. Lots more. Details of all kinds, weaponry, gadgets, the man himself, his universe…. there just was no stopping it.

He knew some of that from reading stuff on the Net, but this was absolutely ridiculous. No way he could know all of this stuff.

But now he had an idea. A big idea. He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and scribbled down:

"Labors: Grey-To-Black Ops.

By- ".

There he stopped. He already had a number of projects out and about, no way he could use his REAL name on this. Especially if it never cleared the copyrights. So he just scribbled down:

"By: R. Ulysses Rosenberg."

Good. So now he had an author alias. Now to start it out.

Who knew? Maybe it would be worth a laugh.

**CHAPTER THREE: 'Peace Talks'"A Lonely Quest".**

****

_"There's no place to hide, when two worlds collide."- "When Two Worlds Collide", Iron Maiden._

Roger Hackett was on the bar of the hotel, the same place he had been since 11:35 P.M., local time, last night. It was mostly a tactical decision, rather than just wanting to get drunk- the bar had excellent visual coverage of the lobby proper, and the emergency exits. The barman kept his glass filled, with a pretty well-aged whiskey that surely wasn't local.

He nursed the whisky he had ordered, slamming it back. As usual, he had started to think like a combat droid or something. It was pretty hard not to, considering he was expecting combat from the first moment. Old habits died hard.

The local drunkards have been talking about the Hyrule Knight and the Sailor Senshi and how the latter were such traitorous bitches who deserved to die (not actually caring to note that they HAD saved the day a lot of times before). Typical.

Someone tapped his shoulder, and Roger turned around, ready for action. There was a young man-a heel of a lot younger than him-staring back, dressed in this get-up that looked like out of a "Three Musketeers" movie, except that the markings were pretty much alien. "You sure took your time, Shard.", Roger grumbled.

"I knew you would guard the place, so I might as well enjoy the night.-Grey said- So, you sober?"

Roger looked at the shot glass. "Just give me a minute. This stuff was powerful." He eyed Grey "Cool get-up."

"This is purely because we're going to see the future government of Crystal Tokyo. Believe me, man, I don't feel so good in _this._", Grey said, pointing at himself. "You're going to on _that_ get-up?"

"Why not?"

"Well… because you look like an extra from a sci-fi series."

"For all intents and purposes, I WAS an extra on a sci-fi series, you Musketeer.", Roger said, his voice a growl.

Roger and Grey walked towards the Mustang and got in. They drove deeper into Juuban, and towards the Hikawa Shrine, without saying a word. Both men were steeling themselves for the job, combat readiness easy to see in their faces.

The car stopped, and both men reached behind the seat and inside the packages. Grey took the undercover vest and the mini-recorder, Roger took the Glover-Glazer and the Berettas, and so set, they got out of the car and into the Shrine.

Grey noticed their target-one Rei Hino, 5-5 tall, long black hair, brown eyes, dressed as a priestess- sweeping the corridor leading to the Shrine's fire. Calmly and methodically, the Office agent looked around him, noticed no-one nearby, and walked closer to the teen.

"Hello, Sailor Mars.", he said in a whisper. That made Hino look up, stifling a surprised look.

"I don't know anybody by that name, sir.", she said simply.

Grey tried not to laugh. "Oh, come on. I know who you are, girl. Sailor Mars, princess of the planet, reincarnation of the Moon Kingdom royalty… need I go on?"

NOW she looked surprised. "Who… who are you?", she asked quietly.

"I represent a faction of people who did not like your attack on the Hyrule Knight.-Grey raised his hand-I'm not from the Knight's kingdom, either. I'm here to set a peaceful arrangement between your faction and the Knight's, and would like to set a meeting with your fellow Senshi."

Rei tried not to do anything dumb, and so asked: "And if I refuse to do anything?"

"Then I'll go for the highest-ranking of your unit, and discuss my business with her."

Rei looked over Grey's shoulder to notice the small, menacing man some dozen feet behind him. Black hair, eyes behind dark glasses, and wearing a brown leather jacket with some yellow arm patches. /I can take him/.

"So… where do you want to do this arrangement?", Rei said finally.

Grey reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small card. "We'll be on that address all week long. Please take the time you need."

Rei took the card and looked it over, obviously expecting it to grow fangs or tentacles.

"We expect this to be peaceful, miss.", Grey said again.

"Okay.", Rei said. Grey bowed at her, and then turned and walked away.

"You do know that now they know where we are, and might come looking for our heads.", Roger said finally.

"Oh, man, quit it. When did you saw a peace talk turn into a battle?".

Roger just adjusted his jacket out of reflex.

Somewhere in California, the man chuckled, and kept working on the keyboard.

Rei Hino reached into her tunic and drew out a small gadget. This gadget, like the rest, allowed communication with the rest of the Sailor Senshi, complete with real-time video and even holographic projection. It surely was a technology that hadn't got very far on Earth.

And that was because the communicator wasn't from Earth at all.

The one Senshi to pick up the comm. was a gal about Rei's age, brunet hair and green eyes that shone with an unnatural brilliance. She gave a big yawn.

"Whazz th' mtter, Rei?", the girl muttered.

"Makoto!-Rei almost hollered-Someone came to the shrine, and he knows! Oh, Kami, he KNOWS!"

Makoto Hino was a little more awake when she said: "Rei… Rei, calm down. Give it to me from the beginning."

"Makoto. A man came to the Shrine, not two minutes ago, and he addressed me by name. My Sailor name. He knows everything-our identities, our past… and he knows about the Hyrule Knight." Makoto gasped.

"He wants us to go this hotel and try to talk things straight with the Hyrule Kingdom, a 'peaceful arrangement', he said… it surely must be a trap."

Makoto just said, in a somewhat-dead voice: "I'll get the others."

Washu Hakubi typed on her computer, humming a J-Pop song and eating a Pocky stick. The typical Washu, of course, was not a black merchant, and surely not a WEAPONS merchant. She grinned as the automated inventory program ran its course, showing the several high-priced, high-powered items on her warehouse.

Then the phone on her desk rang, and she turned to it disgusted. She could only sigh before picking it up.

"Wash here. –she said into it- Grey? What? All right, I'll do it. It'll take me 30 minutes, kid, but no more. And will the price be, hmmm?- she said playfully- Add it to Hackett's tab, okay. Bye!"

She hummed a little more, fingers flying over the keyboard, opening a new program. Invisible probes around the Multiverse activated and scanned, showing their master their results. Washu enhanced the results of a particular pair, and grinned before dialing the phone.

"Grey? Wash. I think I have it. There's a powerful verse-rip opening up on the hills near Nerima, bearing 095, 20 and a half miles from the Tendo Dojo. Okay, bye."

Washu stretched a little before grinning again, and saying:

"Let's see how the production schedule of the Stars is going…"

Grey closed the cell phone and looked towards Roger. "Washu says there's a rip opening near Nerima right now. It might be the Kingdom's."

Roger stopped checking the weapons from the "warfare" package to look out the window. "She thinks?"

"Maybe I should have corroborated, but anyway, the youma do NOT come from other dims for the moment, so it MUST be."

"Let's go say 'hi', then."

Several minutes later, the Mustang stopped at the foot of a large hill, and both men got out. Grey was packing a couple of weapons right now-the Sig-Sauers- along with the undercover vest. Roger packed a lot of firepower concealed beneath his jacket. They both steeled their features and started to walk up the hill.

Right on top of it, the view was marvelous, if marred by the appearance of several beings out of a Tolkien book, elves and pseudo-Atlanteans and beings made of pure rock. They all looked at the two men in surprise, and stood there for a moment before Grey opened his arms.

"Welcome!", he said cheerfully "My name is Greylle Shard, formerly of the Moon Kingdom. Now, well, I would like to negotiate with your…."

That's as far as he got. All the "elves" started to attack, throwing knives and shooting arrows, while the rock-beings charged up the hill. Roger dropped to the ground and drew the Glover-Glazer, shooting the nearest one.

The rock-being's entire right leg was shorn off, and he fell to the ground, screaming. They stood there in shock for a split of a second, and then renewed their attack even more savagely, charging up the hill and screaming like banshees.

Grey grunted as an arrow dug into the vest, barely getting into his skin. He drew his own weapon and shot a random "elf", nailing him in the head.

By now, Roger had managed to draw the Mini-Uzi, which he fired left and right, throwing a wall of lead that cut a couple more "elves" down. The Glover-Glazer boomed in his off hand, punching large holes in the rock-beings and the occasional 'soft' target. By now, the fantasy creatures had a good knowledge of the situation, and ran for the forest, leaving their dead and wounded.

Roger and Grey stood still, expecting a new attack from cover, but it never came. Slowly, they retreated as well, looking over their shoulders. They got on the Mustang and gunned it out of the hill, merging with the standard traffic fast.

Grey was the first one to come out of the battle-high, muttering "oh,man,oh,man,oh,man,oh,man… you just had to START SHOOTING, DIDN'T YOU?"

"Me? THEY started!", Roger answered. "We were DEFENDING OURSELVES!"

"Yeah, sure, 'we were defending ourselves'. What do you think THEY are going to think? If the freakin' Knight wasn't shit enough, now THEY must be thinking WE are the Moon Kingdom, and they will come here, ALL GUNS BLAZING!", Grey yelled in a panic.

"HEY!-Roger yelled-CALM DOWN! Sure we screwed up, but so far, it looks like it was only ONE side. We'll just have to put more muscle on the table towards Hyrule, you know."

Grey just looked at Roger, and shut up for the rest of the trip.

When they arrived to the hotel, they parked right in front of it and got out, battle instincts making them look all over. It was Grey who first noticed the threat.

Grey looked right at it, right above them, and dryly added.

"Roger, renember you said that 'they might come looking for our heads'?"

"Yeah."

"I so HATE it when you're right."

NOW Roger looked upwards, and sure enough, several feet above them, right in the hotel's roof, were the Sailor Senshi.

Powering their attacks. Grim-looking. And most definitely looking for a kill.

And right then Roger said the only think that got to his brain:

"Oh, FRAK!"

It was a good 12 hours after he first got his idea, and the man had taken his notes to the studio he worked on. Right now it was lunch hour, and he was going over them. One of his co-workers noticed him and got close to his table.

"Hey, man, are these seats taken?", he asked.

The man looked up and noticed him, and said: "Yeah, sure, no problem. Go ahead."

The co-worker-a man a little past the middle age-sat down. The old man noticed the notes.

"Hey, what's that?"

"This?", the man said over a sandwich "It's just some crazy idea that got to me yesterday."

"Mind if I see it?", the old man said. The man just gave him the notes, and the old man pulled out a pair of reading glasses for them. After a few minutes of reading he said: "You're right, this IS crazy. I mean, the stuff to pull this out, the copyrights and all…"

"I know. And that's why I wanna try it."

The old man looked at him with this wide-eyed, stern stare, the stuff of his character, and said: "You're not serious."

"Why not? I mean, I won't give myself a credit for this. I'll write it under an alias, give it to the studio big-wigs, have them check it out. If anything, it would be a good joke."

"That's it? This would be just a joke?"

"Maybe I could recycle the idea somehow later, but the fact is, as it is HERE- he pointed at the notes- they sure won't let it see the light of day."

"Oh, well.-the old man said- Good luck. And, hey, man- "

"Yeah?"

"If for some reason they manage to let that thing roll, you can count me in.", the old man said, picking after himself and leaving.

Now THAT made the man chuckle.


End file.
